


How the Story Ends

by ShirleyAnn66



Category: Castle
Genre: Angst, F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-28
Updated: 2013-04-28
Packaged: 2017-12-09 20:53:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/777875
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShirleyAnn66/pseuds/ShirleyAnn66
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Castle never reads the ending of a book first.  He doesn’t like skipping over everything that comes before because he knows the journey is just as, or more, important than the ending.  But sometimes he isn’t skipping anything; it’s just that sometimes, he knows how the story ends.</p>
            </blockquote>





	How the Story Ends

**Author's Note:**

> Warnings: Angst. Like whoa.  
> Spoilers: Set after The Squab and the Quail. Slight references to events and characters throughout the series but nothing too major...I hope. :)  
> Disclaimers: I've only just discovered Castle, so - yeah. I obviously don't own the show, the characters, the books, the actors or anything else related to the show, although I am cursing Nathan Fillion's way too charming persona because I need another fandom like a fish needs a bicycle. :P *cough* This fic is for entertainment and non-profit use only.

Castle never reads the ending of a book first.  He doesn’t like skipping over everything that comes before because he knows the journey is just as, or more, important than the ending.  But sometimes he isn’t skipping anything; it’s just that sometimes, he knows how the story ends.  
  
He stares out at the rain; watches the water stream down the glass, and listens to the patter of drops against the pane.  It’s a soothing sound, a gentle counterpoint to Beckett’s soft, sleeping breaths behind him.  It suits his mood, and his writer’s soul appreciates the symbolism even as he admits it’s a little cliché.  
  
He breathes deeply and thinks of the events of the last few days.  He thinks of Eric Vaughn and Beckett’s discontent, and despite his best efforts, his almost desperate desire to hold on to and cherish the moment, he can’t help but think of how this story ends.  
  
He wishes he could rewrite it.  Beckett’s different and he knows it.  He knows  _her_ in ways he’s never known anyone before.  He’s bound to her through so many experiences he has never - will never - share with anyone else:  holding hands while facing a dirty bomb; drowning in a car; freezing to death in each other’s arms.  Everything he experiences with her, everything he learns about her, just makes him love her more.  And that worries him because he’s been here before, and he knows how the story ends.  
  
He wishes he could rewrite it so she’s his and he’s hers and they spend the rest of their lives together.  He closes his eyes, and he can see her:  old, beautiful, happy and content with her life, her family and her choices.  But no matter how hard he tries, he can’t see himself beside her.  Not because he doesn’t want it - God, he wants it so badly - but because sooner or later, she’s going to realize he’s not enough:  not good enough, not strong enough, not smart enough, not...enough.  She’s different, but he isn’t, and there’s just no story he can imagine with him in it that changes that one central fact:   _he’s simply not enough_.  
  
He watches the rain slide down the glass, and listens as Beckett shifts and sighs in her sleep.  
  
His mother sent him away.  His father never came back.  With Alexis, he worries he came up short against the shadow cast by Meredith’s absence.  Alexis is a great kid, and she says it didn’t matter, but he can’t completely quiet his lingering doubts.  She is who she is in spite of him, he suspects, not because of him.  She’ll leave him behind, eventually, for a life and a family of her own, but that, at least, is only as it should be.  
  
Everyone leaves him.  Eventually.  Kyra; Meredith; Gina.  Sophia hadn’t wanted him once she had him, and now he honestly doesn’t know if she’d ever truly wanted him at all, or if she’d only used him (like Ellie Monroe, Damian Westlake, Natalie Rhodes, others) for obscure purposes of her own.  
  
He turns and looks at Beckett’s sleeping form.  His heart squeezes, and he knows that when she leaves, he’ll never get over her.  
  
But that pain is in some hopefully distant future.  For now, for this moment, she’s here, in his life, in his bed, and he’ll love her to the best of his ability, as openly, completely and honestly as he can, like he always does.  He’ll try to be what she wants, he’ll try to make her happy, and he’ll try to convince her to stay.  And when the time comes, when she finally leaves, he’ll let her go and pick up his pieces (again).  
  
He slips into bed and stares up at the dark.  He catches his breath as Beckett rolls over and snuggles against him with another soft sigh.  He hugs her closer and shuts his eyes, and tries not to think about how the story ends.


End file.
